


Hug Me Like a Marlboro

by Selador



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ass Slapping Prompto, Fluff, Gen, Headlocks, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 08:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12165402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: Prompto slaps Gladio's ass, and Gladio puts him in a headlock every time. The kid keeps doing it, and Gladio puzzles out why.





	Hug Me Like a Marlboro

**Author's Note:**

> old thing that i started, found in my fanfic folder while on the plane, finished it. enjoy!
> 
> Based on the gifs in this post: http://seladorie.tumblr.com/post/158721797495/nifwrites-arssolum-the-moment-noctis-realized

The kid’s at it again.

Gladio knows this as soon as that first disrespectful _smack_ hit his ass after he set up camp. He’s usually only the recipient of this when the kid wants to be a little shit. When Prompto slaps the Prince’s ass, it’s as a greeting, and for some reason, the Prince doesn’t mind. Prompto’s probably the only civilian—or person, period—who can get away with that.

Prompto _knows_ Gladio’ll hunt him down until he’s trapped in a headlock, and for some reason, still insists on sneaking up on him. Gladio doesn’t exactly mind. The surprise of it isn’t great, but it’s just one more thing to keep him on his toes, and it’s not like he doesn’t get vengeance.

And the kid’s smart enough not to try this shit on Ignis, so it’s not like the kid’s completely socially inept. Just a bit of a shit.

Even so, it only takes a couple of times of Prompto pulling this kind of thing before Gladio notes something a little bit odd.

He _enjoys_ the headlocks, which is really the biggest clue. Prompto’ll run when Gladio chases after him, but he doesn’t run very fast or very far. They’re at haven, after all—where could he run? They only get back to the tent or around the haven once before Gladio pounces and gets a secure hold on him.

And he _likes_ it.

He’s struggle, for a little bit, nominally, and then relax. Gladio keeps the hold secure around his neck, not too tight, not anything that would hurt, but steady and inescapable, and Prompto’s hands on his arm lie there and he leans against Gladio.

He yelps and laughs and protests, but Gladio experiments.

Next time Prompto smacks his ass, he chases, catches up to him, and then doesn’t let go when Prompto’s concedes.

He waits, for a moment. And then a moment more. Gladio shifts around so it’s a little bit more comfortable, and Prompto tenses a bit, and then leans fully into Gladio’s side.

 But still isn’t quite relaxed. “Uh, Gladio? You gonna let me go?”

“You want me to?” Gladio asks, not joking in the slightest.

“Um…” Prompto says.

“’Cause, you know,” Gladio continues, “there’s isn’t anything wrong about needing physical contact with other people.”

He can feel the heat rising to Prompto’s neck and cheeks. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

“I know Noctis likes hugs, but he’d never admit it. Not in public,” Gladio says. “And you don’t really need to slap my ass to get me to touch you, unless if that’s what you’re into, of course. Not the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

The kid’s as red as a beet. “I—I can stop.”

Gladio sighs. “You don’t have to. Noctis doesn’t seem to mind, and I don’t either, really,” he says, because he doesn’t. Kid never does it when they’re not completely safe, so he doesn’t ever mistake it for anything else. “But if you need something, you just gotta tell us. We’re all stuck together for a while, and we all need each other. Nothing wrong with telling us what you need to keep going.”

Prompto’s fingers dig into his arm a bit, so he loosens his grip until his arm is hanging over Prompto’s shoulders. To his surprise, he stays. “I just…” Prompto begins. “We’ve been getting hit and hurt a lot, and I just miss… I miss just the normal touches, you know? Like hugs, and… things that aren’t going to hurt me.”

Gladio frowns, and smooths his hand up and down Prompto’s arm. “Noct won’t hug you? He’s pretty big on cuddling. Like a fucking marlboro, honestly.”

“What?” Prompto says. His cheek is pressing against Gladio’s chest. “I don’t think he’s ever initiated a hug, dude.”

“That’s odd,” Gladio says, mulling that over. Noctis is pretty casual about touch, and he still is now, so why would—?

But wait. No. He’s casual about touch with Gladio and Iggy only. He’s had too long with them, having know them his entire life to be anything else. And he’s had far too many people watch his change or sleep. Or bathe, as it was after his injury.

“He hugs me because he knows I like it,” Prompto sniffs. “But—I don’t know, I don’t think physical contact feels that great to him.”

Yeah, that’s—that sounds accurate. Noct can’t even get a massage without having a lot of pain, physical contact probably isn’t that great for him most of the time. Gladio knows Noctis’ body almost as well as his own, and Iggy’s never anything but gentle during training, but most experiences with touch haven’t been pleasant for the Prince.

Well, that’s answered.

The poor kid’s just touch starved.

Gladio keeps rubbing Prompto’s arm. “You don’t _have_ to smack my ass to get my attention. I mean, I get that’s very clear and a clever ruse for what you really want, but I’m really not hung up on touching or cuddling.” He can’t be, with a little sister. “You can just ask.”

Prompto sniffs, and he almost has a moment of panic because _what if the kid is crying_ but no. His face is dry. “Thanks, Gladio.”

It’s really not that big of a deal, Gladio’s about to say, the words right on his tongue. But he looks at Prompto’s blushing face, still pressed against his chest, and becomes hyperaware of his body against his. “Anytime,” he says instead, not as firm as he would like.

Prompto looks up, and smiles at him, and Gladio’s heart thumps faster in his chest.

 _Oh no,_ he thinks, even while he smiles back.


End file.
